


Nothing to Worry About

by lesmiserablol



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Hospitals, Love Confessions, M/M, Protest Gone Wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 05:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4734893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesmiserablol/pseuds/lesmiserablol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The protests go well more often than not, but that doesn't calm Combeferre's anxiety over what could happen while he is not there. It has been a long time since one of them got hurt at a protest, and even then it was nothing he and Joly couldn't patch up. Still, it does not stop him from feeling concerned for the safety of his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing to Worry About

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompts on my tumblr and an anonymous user sent: "can i request courferre with courfeyrac getting badly hurt at a protest and he either gets brought to the hospital on combeferre's shift ~~or combeferre is a paramedic in the ambulance that brings courf to the hospital?~~ " so I wrote this. My first (published) attempt at writing Les Mis fanfiction and my first ever attempt at writing from Combeferre's PoV. 
> 
> Also, a little warning, there are a few brief mentions of violence and blood. I mean, this does take place in a hospital. Speaking of hospitals, I only know about these situations from what I learned from House MD so if anything is inaccurate, sorry.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, please leave kudos/comments if so!

_Combeferre: I am sorry I cannot be there today, but I hope it all goes well._

_Enjolras: Thanks._

_Combeferre: Don't get arrested, okay?_

_Enjolras: I'll try._

_Combeferre: Good. And I do not want to see any of you here either. Stay safe._

 

Combeferre doesn't know if Enjolras replies to his last text, but he's out of time so puts his phone back in his locker and finishes his sandwich before returning to work from his dinner break.

It is strange knowing he will be missing a protest due to his shift at the hospital, seeing as he is usually there for everything their group does. As Courfeyrac had once said, he is like Enjolras's second in command.

He ignores the strange sensation in his stomach, both light and warm, that accompanies the thought of Courfeyrac, and pretends that the smile on his face is directed one of his fellow interns that he passes on his way to the emergency room.

The protests go well more often than not, but that doesn't calm Combeferre's anxiety over what could happen while he is not there. It has been a long time since one of them got hurt at a protest, and even then it was nothing he and Joly couldn't patch up. Once, they had to give Bossuet stitches, but that was probably the worst that had happened. Still, it does not stop him from feeling concerned for the safety of his friends. He glances at his watch occasionally, waiting for the protest to be long over so he can realize they are okay and he can finally relax. The emergency room isn't busy, but there are enough people to distract him from thoughts of his friends, which he is thankful for. He forgets about his worries completely when an elderly woman is brought in with both legs broken from tripping over her wiener dogs.

He hears the familiar sound of sirens and glances at the doctor who is talking options with the elderly woman. After receiving a nod, Combeferre joins a few other interns and doctors down the hallway to meet the paramedic at the door and help her rush the wounded man on the stretcher inside.

There is a long hallway between them and the emergency room and the paramedic immediately begins listing off the information. "Male, mid twenties, suffered multiple blows to the head and torso, suspected broken ribs, also stabbed near the stomach," She nods to the cloth she's pressing against the blood flow. "He has been slipping in and out of consciousness."

"Is his heart rate and blood pressure stable?" He asks, barely glancing at the man whose face is covered in blood and bruises.

"Ye-"

"Combeferre!" A voice interrupts, and he's so startled that he lets go of the stretcher and stops walking. The others glance at him, but he knows they can handle it without him for a minute.

"Enjolras?" He frowns. "What are you doing here?"

"How bad is it? They wouldn't tell me anything in the ambulance. Is he okay?" Enjolras looks stressed, an emotion he usually conceals.

"Is who okay?" Combeferre asks, confused. His brain is working frustratingly slow and he feels as if he is missing something.

Enjolras gives him a strange look and gestures to the hall the doctors had disappeared down with the patient. "Courfeyrac."

"Courf..." Combeferre trails off, his voice sounding strange and everything feeling numb as he processes what Enjolras is saying. His stomach drops.

Without another word he sprints after his friend. Enjolras yells after him, but he doesn't hear it, he just hurries towards the emergency department. Once there, it isn't hard to find Courfeyrac. Combeferre jumps right in with the others who are working on him, recognizing the face now that he knows who it is. Courfeyrac is stirring slightly, eyelids struggling to open, and Combeferre lays a hand on his shoulder, careful not to get in the way. "Courf? Can you hear me? It's Combeferre."

He manages to open his eyes and gives Combeferre a bloody smile, showing off a missing tooth. "Ow." He manages to say, eyes already falling shut again. 

"Heart rate is dropping!" One of the interns declares.

"He's losing too much blood and it seems like the knife pierced some organs." One of the doctors says. "We will have to go into surgery."

They wheel him to the OR, but Combeferre can't go any further so he just stops in the hallway and stares at a wall before turning on his heel, hoping Enjolras is still nearby.

Combeferre finds him in the waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down nervously, but he stands when he sees his friend.

"Is he alright?" Enjolras asks anxiously.

"He's going into surgery for the stab wound. What happened?"

Enjolras sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "The police showed up while we were wrapping up the protest. It quickly got violent, and Courfeyrac was about to punch one of them for hurting Jehan, but he was hit first. It was so chaotic that I'm not sure what happened next, luckily Bahorel got to him before he could get trampled by the crowd."

Combeferre nods and collapses into one of the chairs. Enjolras watches him for a few moments before hesitantly sitting next to him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Combeferre lies, and his voice is shaky, which never happens. He's never like this, he's always grounded, always steady even in the worse situations. Enjolras must be thinking the same thing, for he is looking at his best friend in mild alarm.

"Er, do you want coffee? Or a hug? Or..."

The absurdity of Enjolras offering him a hug is enough to get his mind working again. "Right. I should get back to work."

"Alright. Everyone else is on their way, find us when you have news, yeah?"

"Of course." Combeferre manages to say before heading back to the ER.

It's hard, really hard. He cannot focus, not even when a woman shows up claiming her water broke and that she was unaware of the fact that she was pregnant, and he keeps wondering how long the surgery will last. He gets a few strange looks from his coworkers for his out of character disorientation, but he forces smiles and pretends he is okay.

He jumps when his pager beeps, summoning him to the recovery room where Courfeyrac must be now. It takes all his willpower not to run there, but he makes it there quickly enough.

"Surgery went well, ribs are wrapped, and he's still under anesthesia." The anesthesiologist lists off once he enters. "He'll be fine."

Combeferre lets out a sigh of relief and runs a hand through his hair, a habit picked up from Enjolras. "Thank goodness."

"Do you know him?" She asks curiously, and he nods.

"Yes, we're...friends." He answers, but it doesn't feel right. Friends is too mild of a word to describe their bond.

"Well, I'm glad he's okay." She tells him before leaving. Combeferre thanks her with a smile then turns to Courfeyrac for a few moments before exiting the room. His shift was over half an hour ago, so he clocks out before heading to the waiting room.

Éponine is lying down and staring at the ceiling, taking up most of the couch except for the end where Cosette sits and holds hands with Marius, sitting in a chair next to her. At his feet Jehan is sprawled on the ground, nervously fiddling with his hair, braiding and un-braiding it constantly. Gavroche is also on the floor, playing thumb war with Bahorel while Feuilly watches from a seat across from the pair. Joly is on a couch looking through one of the magazines, his head on Bossuet's shoulder and Musichetta's head on Joly's shoulder. Enjolras and Grantaire are sharing one of the larger chairs, talking quietly and holding hands. His friends all look at him expectantly when he enters.

"The surgery went well, he'll be fine." He informs them. They all look relieved and Gavroche cheers. Combeferre realizes he has no desire to sit down and is on the verge of pacing. "I am going to get coffee, does anybody else want some?"

Almost everyone already has a coffee cup already, but Éponine and Feuilly speak up (he ignores Gavroche's request). Grantaire whisper something to Enjolras, who shoots his boyfriend a reluctant glance before standing up. "I'll come with you, I'd like more coffee."

They walk away from the group and Enjolras turns to him. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine, I just..." Combeferre trails off, his thoughts finishing the sentence for him: _am super worried even though it wasn't a big deal, never want to let him out of my sight, want to talk to him, want to hold his hand and say things that I should've said before._ Nothing he thinks of seems right to say out loud.

"Usually you're the one who gives advice in these situations." Enjolras lets out a forced laugh.

"Yeah? What would I say now?" Combeferre raises an eyebrow.

"Tell him how you feel."

"What?" Combeferre blanches.

Enjolras shrugs. "It was the first thing I thought of. You used to tell me that all the time."

"Yeah, because you were pining over Grantaire for weeks."

"And? Are you not doing that with Courfeyrac?"

"I..." He trails off, realizing Enjolras. "Well...how did...?"

"Grantaire told me." Enjolras shrugs again, looking smug.

"Well..." Combeferre is rarely speechless, but now he can think of nothing to say. "I have to...I'll just..."

He turns around and hurries to Courfeyrac's room, leaving a smirking Enjolras to get the coffee by himself.

Courfeyrac is sleeping, his breathing and his heart rate steady. His face has been cleaned up, the blood washed off so he is more recognizable even though he still has bruises. Combeferre quietly slips into the chair by his bed side and watches him for a few seconds before hesitantly taking his hand, letting him know he wasn't alone.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but there is a loud squeak and he becomes aware of his glasses digging into the side of his face. Combeferre lifts his head up from where he had rested it on the edge of the hospital bed. He raises a hand to adjust his glasses and realizes that the other hand is still holding Courfeyrac's.

"Oh God, you didn't hear that, did you?" He asks, eyes wide. His words are slurred slightly from the painkillers.

Combeferre frowns, still not quite awake and his voice slightly raspy when he asks, "Hear what?"

"Uh, nothing. What time is it?"

Combeferre squints at his watch. "3 AM," He looks at Courfeyrac and suddenly remembers the events of the night before, feeling much more awake. "Are you alright? How do you feel? Are you in pain? Do you need something?"

Courfeyrac grins, a gap where his tooth had been. "I'm fine, it's all good man. Nothing to worry about."

"Right, sorry, I was just worried about you."

"You were?" Courfeyrac asks, ears turning red in the soft light that is coming through the window from the moon.

"Well yeah, I...you're my friend." Combeferre replies.

Courfeyrac's smile looks too forced when he echoes, "Yeah. Friend."

"No, hold on. That is not what I intended to say." He takes a deep breath, adjusting his glasses again and closing his eyes briefly to prepare himself before looking back to Courfeyrac. "Courf, I was so worried about you. I mean, a part of me, a very small part, knew you'd be fine but the rest of me was terrified that you wouldn't be. And I realized that if that happened, that there were too many things left unsaid. And I didn't even discern how I felt until tonight, seeing you covered in blood and hearing that your heart rate was dropping and feeling all of my fears that the protest could go wrong staring me in the face, and it was _you_ in front of me, of all people. That hit me like nothing ever has before, because you're not just a friend to me. Looking back, it has always been this way, I have experienced these feelings for you for, I don't know, months probably. I care for you, Courfeyrac, more than a friend."

He stops, looking down at his hands and feeling a tremendous weight lift from his shoulders. There is another squeak like the one that had woken him up earlier, and he looks up to see Courfeyrac staring at him in shock. "Is this a dream? Am I still dreaming? How many drugs did they give me?"

"It's alright if you do not return my feelings, Courfeyrac." He tries to hide his disappointment but probably fails. "I just had the desire for you to be aware of them."

"If I don't...No. No, Combeferre, I feel the same, I have for a few months now."

He blinks in surprise. He had not been expecting that at all. "Oh."

"Yeah." Courfeyrac nods. "And I'd, uh, I'd like to kiss you right now, but I haven't brushed my teeth in almost 24 hours, so you'll have to wait."

Combeferre chuckles before standing and leaning over him. "I don't mind." He says before dipping down to leave a slow, chaste kiss on Courfeyrac's lips.

He lets out a sigh of contentment when they break apart, making Combeferre smile. Courfeyrac licks his lips thoughtfully. "That was pretty much everything I dreamed it would be, although not in this situation in the slightest. I'd probably save your life or something cool, and the sunlight and wind would catch my hair just right, and you-"

Combeferre cuts him off with another kiss. "Now I probably shouldn't keep you up any more, you need to recover."

"I'm fine!" He whines, but Combeferre can see, still inches from his face, that he is fighting to keep his eyes open and to hide any grimace of pain, and one hand is holding his stomach where he got stabbed.

"No, you're not. Get some sleep." He gives him a quick kiss. "Doctors orders."

"Alright, fine." Courfeyrac says, leaning back and falling asleep almost immediately. It isn't until Combeferre sits back down on his chair that he realizes they are still holding hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on [tumblr!](http://lesmiserablol.tumblr.com/)


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